


Sleep Well, My Son

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Coran (Voltron), coran is a good dad, de-aged fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.





	Sleep Well, My Son

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Early-mid season four  
**Warning notes:** None  
**Other notes:** There is a lot of Spanish in here. You are welcome to use a translator or put yourself literally in Coran's shoes and piece it out :)

“And it’s like… caffeine?”

“Yes,” Coran tweaked his moustache as the young human suspiciously eyed the bright yellow bean Coran had given him. “You’ll be feeling rejuvenated and youthful in a matter of dobashes with none of that foul taste Number Five inhales.” He shuddered at the thought of the liquid Number Five downed every morning and sometimes he caught her drinking at odd vargas of the night that she told him wasn’t quite like something called coffee but it was close and helped her stay awake. He’d tried it once and never, _ ever _, again.

Lance continued to hold the bean in his hand and although his gaze was intent on it it could not hide the exhaustion dulling normally bright ocean eyes. It made Coran wonder if giving him the bean was a good idea as he really should be resting, not energizing his body, but the boy had been determined to train and at least this way he would be alert to help prevent injury.

And maybe, maybe, if Lance got in the training session he would feel that he had done enough and then perhaps actually rest as he should be doing right now.

It had been so long since Coran had seen Lance rest. Ever since Number Four had left for the Blades he had been training himself to exhaustion in all of their already very limited free time around Coalition duties and missions. Coran was worried but every time he’d gently inquired it had been met with an assurance that he was fine, he was the Red Paladin now and the right hand and Shiro needed to be able to rely on him. Coran understood that.

He still didn’t like it.

Even now, when they were docked planetside and he should have been off exploring and shopping the marketplace Lance had opted to remain behind to get in more training time. It worried Coran. It worried him a lot.

He would let Lance have this training session and then, he decided with a decisive nod, they would talk. 

“All right,” Lance said. “I guess I’ll give it a try. I just… swallow it?”

“Yup,” Coran said. “And you’ll have about two vargas of feeling as energized as you did in the years of your youth.” 

“Because I’m so old,” Lance teased and Coran was relieved to see the smile, as tired as it was, and the faint sparkle back to his eyes.

“Ancient,” Coran said straightfaced.

Lance let out a light laugh, threw the pill into his mouth and dry swallowed it. Coran winced at that. Barbaric, some of these human practices, when there was a glass of delicious nunvil just there on the kitchen counter he’d been preparing when Lance had wandered in to collect drink pouches before he went to the training room.

“So, is it like immediate?” Lance asked. 

“Give it just a few ticks,” Coran said. “You’ll get this nice tingly feel--”

His words were swallowed by a _ pop _ like noise and right before his eyes Lance vanished.

No, Coran amended with a mixed sensation of horror and confusion, as jeweled eyes swept the spot the human had just been. Not vanished.

Shrunk.

And not just shrunk.

Lance was…

He was a child.

A youth.

_ Youth. _

The word echoed in Coran’s mind as he stared at the miniature human, Lance’s former gray and blue shirt down to now bare knees and slipping off one tiny shoulder while eyes, so large and bright and filling rapidly with fear, stared up at Coran.

The bean had given Lance youth, just as Coran had said it would. But he had not… this was not…

“¿_D-dónde estoy _?” came a higher pitched, tear-filled question in a language Coran knew was one Lance spoke but not one he himself knew.

“L--”

He tried to speak the boy’s name but Lance cut him off again, words rapidfire and growing in pitch. “¿_D-dónde estoy _ ? _ ¿Dónde está Mamá? ¿Quién eres tú? _” He stumbled backwards, tripping over his jeans and sneakers and landed with a thump on his backend. 

The dark head swiveled right and left, the boy’s distress only growing as unfamiliar settings looked back and as the gaze refocused on Coran the man felt his heart twist as tears began to trickle over.

This was not what he had wanted.

Coran very slowly bent at the knee to bring himself more to the child’s height and the boy scuttled backwards, bare feet squeaking on the floor, until he hit the kitchen counter.

The sob of fear wrenched Coran’s heart further.

He had to fix this.

And while right now his words would mean nothing to the child there was something that would help.

Hopefully.

“Lance,” Coran called the boy’s name gently.

Lance let out a sharp gasp of surprise. 

“_Usted... ¿sabes mi nombre?” _

“You are Lance,” Coran carefully pointed at Lance, “and I,” he brought his hand back to tap his chest, “am Coran. Coran,” he repeated.

“Coran?” the boy repeated slowly.

Coran was relieved to see that some of the fear had abated.

Coran nodded and smiled. “Yes. Coran.”

“Coran, _ ¿dónde estoy? ¿Dónde está Mamá? _

He was so _ young. _

“I don’t know what you’re saying, my boy,” Coran said, voice still soft, despite his own fears about the situation “but I’m here. I will help you. Will you come with me?” He extended his hand in Lance’s direction, a nearly universal gesture.

Lance remained tucked up against the counter, hands fisted in his too large shirt and bundling it at his chest, but his eyes darted between Coran’s face and his hand.

_ “¿Vas a ayudarme?” _ he asked quietly. “Coran, _ ¿Vas a ayudarme?” _

Coran had no idea if he should nod or shake his head to whatever the question was asking of him, so he only bobbed his hand and tried to keep his smile encouraging. 

Lance slowly got to his feet. 

“Come,” Coran bobbed his extended hand again. “Lance, come here. I… I will take care of you. I promise.”

He had never meant a promise more.

The boy moved achingly slowly across the kitchen, wariness still clear but at least no longer fleeing. 

Just like his older self, this young version of Lance trusted in others, saw the best in them. It made something warm fill Coran’s chest, growing as a tiny hand brushed against his. 

He was so _ small. _

The last time he’d interacted with a child like this had been Allura growing up. 

And before her…

He’d almost…

He tried to push the thought away before it could take root, but as he stared at the small, dark hand in his he could see it, he could see her in the boy’s large eyes, in his complexion and deep colored hair. 

This could have been what his son looked like if life had not been so cruel. 

Coran felt his smile growing shaky and he forced himself to not think on it, to focus on the young human child who was looking at him with an innocence that Coran knew still lived on in the teenager despite all he had seen and done. 

“There we go,” Coran said, his own voice thick and he swallowed heavily to clear it. Lance cocked his head to the side, concern mixing with his confusion and the other small hand lifted up to brush at Coran’s cheek.

Coran was surprised to see it pull back with something glistening on the tiny fingers.

He…

He had been crying.

_ “¿Estás bien?” _ came the inquiry, the boy’s voice small.

Coran knew that one, a familiar phrase between Lance and Number Two.

“_Bien,” _ he said, almost feeling a chuckle as Lance’s eyes widened with surprise. “I’m sorry, my boy. I did not mean to worry you. I am all right. _ Bien. _I promise.”

Lance gave a small nod.

And then he gasped.

But it was not the scared inhale of before or the prelude to a sob.

It was excitement.

_ “¡Tus orejas! ¡Son puntiagudas!” _

Coran did chuckle then as he could feel where the bright gaze had been drawn. “You think my ears look funny, don’t you? Here, have a closer look.”

He tilted his head down and just like that all of Lance’s earlier fear, any hesitancy, vanished as he felt hands descend on his ears, tracing the lobes and the points that were so very different from a human’s.

“¿_Cómo _ ?” the boy whispered, tracing the edges before pulling back and Coran could see him looking now at the Altean marks beneath his eyes and see the confusion and excitement all rolled into one. “¿_Eres… eres un extraterrestre?” _

The word was different but it was close enough to what Coran had learned the humans called beings other than themselves: extraterrestrials. 

“Yes,” he smiled. “I am an _ extraterrestre.” _

Lance’s mouth dropped. 

Coran chuckled, the heaviness from earlier disappearing at the comical reaction. “You should know though, that you too are an _ extraterrestre, _Lance.”

“_Eres un extraterrestre,” _the boy breathed.

“And do you know where we live?” Coran asked, as he recalled the youngest humans’ delight when they’d first arrived at the castle at realizing where they were after the original shock of the events getting them there had worn off. “Space.”

Lance cocked his head in confusion.

“Come,” Coran held out his hand again and this time Lance took it without any hesitation, small fingers wrapping about three of Coran’s own. “I will show you. And,” he gently tugged the shirt back up from where it was trying to slide down the boy’s torso through the overlarge neckhole, “see if I can find you some clothes.”

Coran walked slowly, half bent to accommodate Lance’s height, as he led him through the empty castle corridors, but his mind was racing.

The bean’s effects generally lasted about two vargas and assuming that part was still compatible with human biology they had quite a bit of time still to go but then, hopefully, Lance would revert to normal. Coran would operate on that assumption for now, or at least until several of the others had returned to assist him so he could research and make sure Lance remained safe and taken care of. 

But that meant for two vargas he had a small human who didn’t speak a lick of castle applicable translated languages to engage with.

Coran knew the circumstances for such were not ideal but now that Lance’s tears had cleared and he seemed excited over anything else, pulling on Coran’s hand to get him to go faster although he had no idea of their destination, Coran was looking forward to spending time with his young charge.

It would be…

It would be like… like being a father to his lost son.

Just for a little bit. 

Coran’s first stop, en route to the storage rooms where all manner of things had gathered and he had no doubt there had to be _ something _in there Lance could wear, was a large alcove of bay windows that gazed into space. The castle had remained afloat while the Paladins took the Lions down and Coran felt his heart swell at Lance’s gasp of delight and he raced forward, tugging on Coran to follow, as the dark but beautiful backdrop of spaces and stars filled the windows.

_ “Espacio!” _ Lance jumped up and down, bare feet slapping on the floors. “Coran, ¡_espcacio! ¡Es espacio! _ ¡_Mira, mira! _ ¡_Estrallas! _ ¡_Muchas estrallas!” _

“Yes, _ espacio,” _ Coran parroted the word back, no doubt space. “You are in _ espacio, _Lance.” 

He let the boy gaze for a few more minutes, small hands pressed to the glass now and breath fogging it up, before he tugged him away as despite his excitement Lance could not stop the small shivers and it was time for him to get real clothes in the cold castle.

Clothes ended up being cobbled together from a set of Allura’s old life-size dolls Coran found in the storage room, Lance dressed in the fashion of Prince Wonagi of the fictional planet Wabaloo that consisted of a pair of dark blue shorts and a tunic in blues and whites that Coran belted with a ribbon from a dress up hat. Lance giggled the entire time as Coran figured out how to best get the clothes on him, babbling away in Spanish with the word _ extraterrestre _thrown in quite a bit. 

Shoes and socks unfortunately he could not find in Lance’s size but the boy didn’t seem perturbed and so Coran didn’t press the issue.

After clothes were found Coran took Lance on a tour of the castle, alternating between holding his hand and carrying him around on his shoulders, the boy’s laughter infectious. 

Lance was enchanted by everything; the bridge, the computers, the workrooms. He’d _ squealed _when Coran showed him the Red Lion and it had grown even louder as Red had actually awoken and bent her head down, inspecting her little Paladin with an air of curiosity, nosing him with more gentleness than Coran had ever seen before.

He was pretty sure Lance would have been content to stay with the “_gatito de espacio” _but his stomach had rumbled and Coran had brought him back to the kitchens for something to eat.

Lance had adored the food goo, slurping it up with a gusto, and Coran had tenderly helped him wash up at the kitchen sink after. 

His heart felt full.

But at just about the two hour mark Lance had started to yawn and with the tiredness came the earlier questions and fears.

“¿_Dónde está Mamá _ ?” Lance whispered, gripping Coran’s jacket where he’d settled against Coran’s side on the couch. “Coran, _ qu-quiero Mamá. _”

“I know,” Coran murmured, running a hand through the dark chocolate hair. “I know, Lance. Your mamá will be here soon.”  
  
“_Mamá… _” 

“Shh,” Coran soothed, keeping his voice a soft cadence. “It’s going to be all right, my boy. Why… why don’t you go to sleep, hm? Sleep?” he mimed putting his head against the couch and closing his eyes. “And when you wake up everything will be all better.”

In answer Lance snuggled up to Coran’s side, his head pillowing on Coran’s chest and his hand still clutching Coran’s jacket like a safety blanket. 

“There we go,” Coran said softly, reaching with his other hand to drag the blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over them both. “Are we comfy?”

“_Mamá _,” Lance answered with.

“Soon,” Coran murmured, smoothing the blanket down and then continuing to rub circles on the small back. “Sleep, Lance. I’ll take care of you. Everything will be all right soon.”

And although Lance couldn’t have understood any of it Coran felt him nod. “_Gracias, _Coran.”

Thank you. Coran knew that one too.

“It is I who thanks you, dear boy,” he said, bending his head to place a kiss atop the dark head, “for this truly unforgettable gift. I am sorry for how it happened, but… but I hope...”

He hoped it was something, if Lance remembered it, that he too might recall fondly. Coran knew he would never forget.

Lance only snuggled closer, as if somehow knowing.

A minute later his breaths had evened into sleep.

Coran sank back fully into the cushions then, glancing at the clock on the far wall. 

Two dobashes.

He both wanted time to stop and to move along.

He spent the two minutes staring down at the sleeping child, his face content in sleep and his grip, while loosened on Coran’s jacket, still there.

Still holding on.

Just as Coran was holding him.

Two dobashes later there was a soft _ pop, _a ripping sound, and an increase in weight pressing against Coran and a soft thump as one long, bare leg slid off the couch and bumped against the floor. 

“Lance?” Coran whispered the boy’s name, readjusting the blanket as he had no doubt the ripping had been the clothes meeting an untimely demise. 

Lance slumbered on, breaths steady and deep.

His fingers were still latched into Coran’s jacket.

“Sleep well, Lance,” Coran murmured. He carefully leaned forward and pressed another kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “I will take care of you. I promise.” His lips curved into a gentle smile. “Sleep well, my son.”

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something fluffy today (it’s been a long week and yes, I know it’s only Tuesday (morning at that)). So have some fluff thanks to a prompt from one of my readers requesting a kid!fic with Lance and Coran (with a nod to Coran's backstory from _As Color Fades Away_). **And if you’re feeling kind please leave a comment below with what you enjoyed about the fic.** I really appreciate it ♥
> 
> 💥**(Like my works? Want to read even MORE? Visit my [Tumblr, icypantherwrites](https://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com) for details.)💥**  



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